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On the Outside

I have started and deleted this post about twenty times. Editing, deleting, re-writing, deleting, trying to say the right things about Elliot’s arrival, and what it was like. This time I’m just going to write straight through, and whatever happens, happens, because like all the times I try to write about big things, it never seems right, but now that I’ve realized I was writing about the wrong thing, maybe it just will be.

Elizabeth Stone wrote “Making the decision to have a child – it’s momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.” I’ve always felt this, as most mothers do, to be absolutely true, and wonderful, and horrible and risky in its truth. Motherhood for me has been all of those things. Fabulous and heartbreaking and easy and hard and dangerous and frightening and glorious. Usually all at the same time, and while you are doing laundry. I tell you this, because it perhaps explains what happened to me when Megan told me she was pregnant. I knew it was coming. I’d even suspected it for a while, and I thought that when they made the decision to get married a baby was what they were really after, but somehow – when Megan said that she was expecting, I did something horrible. I congratulated her and Alex, and then I excused myself, and I went to the bathroom and cried. Not happy tears either, not “I’m so happy for you” tears, but some sort of heartbreak that took me by surprise. Everyone knew I was crying, and it was days before I knew why, or could even start to explain myself. I think that people thought that I didn’t want to be a grandmother, or that I thought she was too young (she’s not) or that I’m bad with transitions (I am) or that I was too young (I’m not.) It wasn’t that at all – I was fine with me being a grandmother. I was heartbroken that Meg was going to be a mother. That her fine, young, happy heart was going to start going round around outside her body, and that with that, she would get all the joy, and also all the pain and work and risk that motherhood brings.

It was a maternal reaction, I see that now. Some wild urge to protect my daughter from… well. Let’s be frank. I wanted to protect her from everything she’d ever done to me, and it took me a few months to settle down, but I did. (As an aside, this trait must run in the family, because I think my mum went through the same thing.) As the months went on I started looking forward to it, and as a retired birth worker, I was over the moon when Meg asked me if I’d come to her birth. She was planning a home birth with midwives – a practice I wholeheartedly support, and the way I had my girls, and she set about preparing herself, and her husband Alex did the same. (A little note here, let’s not debate home birth in the comments. I know it is not the case in much of North America, but here in Ontario we have educated, licensed midwives who are registered primary care attendants, and they are covered in our provincial health care plan. The research where we live is clear. Low-risk healthy women and babies are more likely to stay that way if they give birth at home.) I (eventually) became beyond excited.

Let’s fast forward to last Thursday, when I was about to get on a plane and leave my daughter to work at the DFW Fiber Fest. I’d booked the work before Meg was even pregnant, and although it was a tiny bit of a risk, I felt sure that it would be okay. First babies are seldom early, and almost never that early, and so with Meg’s blessing, I got on that plane and left. Friday morning I texted her and said something like “Whew! We got through the first night without you having a baby!” and two minutes later the text came back… “About that…”

Meg was (maybe) in labour. She’d started having contractions about every ten minutes that morning. I swore, and then I went to breakfast. Sometimes labours start and stop. Contractions didn’t mean a baby was coming – so I went to work. I taught the morning, and then at lunch, Meg texted that they hadn’t stopped, and I spent the next 15 minutes having a complete nervous breakdown. I tried to find the part of me that could stay at work and miss the birth. I tried to imagine the part of me that did that, the part of me that has been to so many births for clients, but misses my own daughters, – and then I called my friend Jen (student midwife) and she told me what I already knew. “Go home.” She said. “I’m supposed to work two more days” I said. “Imagine that it’s twenty years from now” she said. “Where will you wish you had been?”

Right around then, a representative of the DFW Guild walked into the room, and I told her everything. I might even have almost cried. I told her I was trying to be the sort of person who stayed and taught while her grandchild was being born, but that I was failing. Then I stood there, and looked at her, and… Blog, I will be eternally grateful for this…She said “Family first. What do you need to get home?” (Here I must note: my eternal thanks go out to the executive of the DFW Guild, and the knitters who were booked to have a class with me and missed out. Your generosity and kindness was a tremendous gift, One that I will never be able to repay, though this time next year, I’ll try.) A quick call to Joe, and I was tentatively booked on the 7:30pm flight to Toronto. (It was the soonest one.) I taught the rest of the day, then checked in with Meg to see if things were still underway (they were) then Joni (the spectacular teacher liaison for the guild) drove me to my hotel, I bugged out faster than a MASH unit, and she drove me to the airport like James Bond. I was at the airport about 45 minutes after class ended.

The whole flight home, I was wild. What if the baby is born before I get there? What if I go home and the baby is born in three weeks and I left for nothing? How mad will the knitters be? I was my dear blog, a mess. (Photo below of the guy who sat next to me on the plane, and upon learning that I was flying home for the birth of a grandchild, showed me 837364557 pictures of his granddaughter, born just months before. He was reassuring.)

Joe picked me up from the airport at 1am, the baby not born yet, and he was so excited that when he got out of the car to put my case in the trunk, he forgot to put the car in park and had to chase it. The family text group was on fire. No baby yet, contractions continuing… Meg was going to try and rest. By 5am her contractions were at 5 minutes apart, and we all knew it was showtime. I spent the day knitting on the blanket, checking my phone to make sure the volume was on, and trying to deal with Joe, who was (still) so excited, that when he got on the phone with Air Canada to cancel his flight to Calgary that day, as he explained to the agent that his daughter was having a baby, cried from joy enough that she didn’t charge him a change fee. By late afternoon, I was crazy. I’d been texting with Alex, who kept assuring me that Meg was doing beautifully, but knowing Meg, and knowing how my labours had been, I had the feeling that she was farther along that she was letting on. I had a sneaking suspicion that her ability to cope so beautifully was making it look like her labour wasn’t intense, when really, she was about to bomb drop a baby on us. (I know this, because it’s pretty much what I did with her and her sisters. McPhee women specialize in having a grip, often to our own detriment. We are stealth. You never know when we need help.) Alex, who was doing a spectacularly wonderful job and knows this about his wife, snapped and called me and the midwife around suppertime.

I arrived, walked in the door, and Meg fell into my arms. It was very, very clear to me that there would be a baby soon, and she settled into the birth pool, and then… oh Blog. She proceeded to break my heart into a million pieces, over and over, and over again. She was graceful. She was gorgeous. She was strong and she was gentle and she was… she was perfect. Her labour with her babe was just like my labour with her, and I was carried on waves of remembrance and of pride and while on the outside, I helped her and Alex and the midwife set up. While she breathed her baby out and let it carry her, on the outside of me, I held a cool cloth to her brow and held her hand, and laid out towels and birth supplies, and on the inside, there were no words. Never, in my life has my heart walked round more outside my body, never have I felt more keenly the cord that connects me forever to a person I gave birth to. There are no words for her strength. She was absolutely perfect. Absolutely beautiful, and absolutely something I had always hoped she would be.

At 8:17pm, her baby slid from her, and the midwife gave him a little push, forward between Meg’s legs, and he rose up, right in front of her in the water. She sat back on her knees, looked at him swimming there, and then reached down, and lifted him up to her, up out of the water, and into the world of air, and wild things, and love.

I had expected, Blog, that in that moment, I would be possessed with my grandchild. That his small self would be the star of the moment. That I would see him, and he would be my moon and my stars and the focus of all of my heart. I thought he would sweep me entirely… and he was lovely. He was perfect and tiny and early and his ears are like little shells, and his small hands are everything I have ever needed or loved or found beautiful, to be sure, but Blog… I was all eyes for my sweet Meg.

My grandson is beautiful, for sure, but he was not my star. Friends, have you seen the glory that is my girl?

Your writing as always is perfect and touching. Reading your last post, I was heartbroken thinking that perhaps you had missed it, but I’m so glad to read that you were there and got to experience everything. Congratulations from the depth of my heart.

I am so, so happy that you were there for Eliot’s birth and for your Meg. There is something that tears the heart and fills it up as your child passes through Great Life Experiences. Fear, worry, despair, pride, astonishment, joy. And most of all, heart wrenching, all consuming love. Blessings to all of you. Celebrate the wonder that is your girl, and the treasure that is her son.
And you made the absolutely best choice to leave-all the knitters think so!

Absolutely beautiful. How do you do it? How do you articulate so precisely what I felt when I watched my daughter give birth to two of her three daughters? I love my grandchildren with all my heart, and that love only increased the love I felt for my daughter (and daughter-in-law).

Thank you for giving me that quote. I’ve never heard it before — it describes mother hood perfectly. Thank you, also, for sharing with us. Your words are so profound and beautiful. Congrats to you all. Your Meg is perfect.

Sobbing (happy tears) at your beautiful honesty. While I’m only an auntie (hysterectomy when quite young)– when my older sister had her first baby, my precious niece, I initially had only eyes for my sister right after–how that resonated! (Of course, darling firstborn niece, her brother, and her sister, are my hearts outside my body–but boy, did that hit home!).

You did such an amazing job raising job such an amazing daughter. Well done, McPhee Women! Well done!

Thank you for this post. I can’t adequately explain how this touched me. I’m thinking about starting a family, having not grown up with siblings or babies, never having had baby fever myself or connected much with those who had. I feel like I have a better understanding of what I have to both look forward to and fear. Thank you again and congratulations to Meg, Alex, you, Joe, and the rest of the family!

Oh my heart! I have no children, nor will I probably ever have any. And if what I’m feeling in my heart is one tenth of one percent of what you’re feeling, then, I’m amazed you could put it into words at all. Many many congratulations to you, to your daughter, and to all whom you love.

Tears running down my face…
Beautifully written. Thank you.
As the mother of sons, three of them, I missed out on girly/ daughter things.
But I can still tell you almost 54 years later about the birth of my first son, and the later births of his two brothers.
Seven grandchildren later ( two granddaughters after four grandsons!) I am still amazed at all of them.
All blessings, good wishes, joy, peace on your whole family.

This was gorgeous, and I can see how devastating, how amazing Meg was in the pictures. Thank you so much for sharing them with us, Meg and Alex. It is so generous of you to let the Blog in like this. And Steph your writing, OMG. I’m crying and remembering having my boy, and all the wonderful and terrible things he’s done to me over the years.

I love hearing about happy Grandpa Joe and I’m so very glad you made it in time! How wonderful!

Oh, my. I have tears in my eyes, Steph. I have so many feelings in response to this incredible post: sweet memories of my own fabulous homebirths; my hopes for my own children, who are still very young; and, broadly, my hopes and prayers for how I wish the world to be.

Peaceful familial relationships are an incredible blessing, and it is an honor to witness that in your family.

Meg and Alex: congratulations on a beautiful baby. You three make a gorgeous family.
Elliot: welcome to the green world! (quasi-quote from a favorite birthy book, “On the Day You Were Born”)
And Steph: thank you.

Oh this was just lovely. Heartbreaking and poignant and loving and joyous all at once. I couldn’t stop crying for the lump in my throat. Thank you for sharing that with us. Welcome to the world Elliott and much love to your new family Meg and Alex. Blessings abound!

Oh my heart. You could not have written more eloquently, or perfectly about motherhood. It is such a relief to know that it won’t change when the Grands enter the picture. Big, gregarious American hugs for you and Meg and that beautiful Elliott.

You take my breath away. All week I was hoping that you had made it in time. What a blessing that the Canadian system makes this so smoothly possible; at home with loved ones and without being odd and dangerous. What a beautiful woman you have there. And I totally get you early reaction.

That was so beautifully moving. Tears flowing, off to read this to my husband. You captured the love, joy, pride and anguish of motherhood so profoundly, I will remember this forever. Thank you for sharing this. Bless you and your expanded family.

I’m so glad you made it back for the birth; I was worried that you had missed it.

Also, your story is beautiful. It has me thinking of my own mom and what she’s going to go through later this spring when I have my first child (her first grandchild). It’s going to be quite the adventure for all of us, I’m sure, and I hope we manage with as much grace and poise as you and Meg.

Oh, Stephanie – this is so beautifully written. You made the right choice to go home, and no one who pays attention to what you write would ever think any other choice was possible for you – or would want to stand in your way.

My story: my daughter was born by a surprise c-section (she decided to flip over and go breech in the last two days of the pregnancy). I called my mom, 4 hours away, to tell her while waiting to go into the operating room. Mom jumped in her car, which proceeded to burn up its engine halfway between our homes. Later I said, “Mom, you didn’t have to rush, the baby was safe”. She said, “it wasn’t your baby I was rushing to, it was my baby.”

My mom said this over and over again when I was pregnant with my triplets, getting more swollen and exhausted every day, and finally waiting for hours for the operating room to be ready for my C-section. She loves her three granddaughters, of course, but she was the most worried about her baby. I understand her so much better since becoming a parent myself. <3

What beautiful writing, Grammy! Thank you so much for making the time to include us in your joy! Thank you Meg & Alex for letting us share this amazingly private moment of your life with you, it was a privilege.

I’ve been reading faithfully since 2006 (and have made probably three comments in that time?) and this is such an incredible thing to share with us. thank you and mazal tov and nothing but joy and love to you and your children and your children’s children. <3

Tears streaming down my face as I read this. I am not yet a grandmother, although, as the mother of a 31 year old daughter, I have hopes of it happening one of these days. I can imagine (but just barely) watching her go through this and how heartbreaking it would be. Bless you for putting it all into words.
P.S. congrats on that delicious grandson and all of your precious daughters.

What an amazing, beautiful, wonderful story.
10 years ago, in the middle of one of the biggest series of snowstorms in Colorado, my daughter called me at work to tell me it was time. I got stuck several times and barely made it to the road by my house, then spent hours and several family and friends getting to my daughter. I had the privilege and honor of holding her, helping her while my first granddaughter was born. She had to transport, but I couldn’t go with her; someone had to stay with the baby and I was the logical choice. It was heartbreaking to see her taken away on a stretcher into the ambulance (preceded by the snowplow) and not being able to help. Making up for it was having time alone with my granddaughter, just the baby and her grandfather, for the first several hours of her life, holding her, kissing her, watching her, playing with her, counting fingers, toes, smelling her, worrying about her mom. That began a bond between us that I don’t quite have with any of her siblings or cousins.

What lovely writing and explaining. I was also concerned you were in Dallas and missed the birth. I know no knitter would ever say anything about your running home to this super special event. I’m so happy for your family!

I was at DFW, and can tell you that your prediction about the knitters there was spot on! I spent all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning at the convention center and absolutely did not hear one negative or disapproving word from anyone! In and out of classes, the market, the keynote speech – it was all just love and support and understanding. Joni and everyone in charge handled the whole situation with grace and competence, and as far as the running of the whole event went, you would not have known that anything out of the ordinary had happened – everyone knew immediately what was the right thing to do, and they just set about making it happen. I met a woman who had been in Steph’s Friday afternoon class, and she said everyone was amazed at how professionally she was able to carry on and teach the class. Congratulations to all!

I’m so glad that you have the words because your wonderful, amazing post left me teary eyed and speechless! I’m so glad that you didn’t miss it. They are a beautiful family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing such a sacred moment with us. Blessings to you all!

Wow. Just… wow. What a wonderful story, and high congratulations to you – having such a wonderful daughter, son-in-law, AND grandchild, plus husband. You’re SO right about becoming a mother – my children and 19 and 10, and they are my hearts walking out there in the world, and always will be. Grandchildren in the future…? Oh man – marvelous and terrifying at the same time. Bottom line, your words ring SO TRUE! Thanks for putting them down for us – you have great writing instincts! (-:

I’m not much of one for commenting on the blogs I read and I think this is the first time I’ve commented on yours, but I wanted to say what a smile you’ve put on my face this morning and tell you about the tears you’ve brought to my eyes. Thank you.

I am in tears. You are true and strong and graceful and you clearly produced a daughter who is the same. That is one of the most heartfelt and touching descriptions of a birth I have ever read. I remember that a few years ago I did the grandmother at the childbirth scene from The Vagina Monologues and I was pulled into the scene performing the same way as when I read this. Blessings on you all–and I have to tell you as a grandmother, the heart outside stuff may get worse. Possibly because you have even less control or input or possibly you see opportunities to redo any mistakes you made with your own. So be prepared–it doesn’t stop. Love to you all.

Such a beautiful post…so full of love. Thank you for sharing with us. I saw you and Joni making a quick exit from the convention center Friday evening. That was before I heard about Meg going into labor. While I did have a class scheduled with you, I’m so happy that you left us to be with your daughter. It was the only choice to make. And any knitter worth her yarn will understand why you left. When I left San Antonio for the drive to Dallas that Friday morning I was concerned my sister-in-law would go into labor early. She and my brother are expecting their first in two weeks. Her name is Meg too. Life is an amazing adventure! Blessings to you and yours and I look forward to enjoying a class with you in the future.

I’m giving myself a hernia trying not to sob at this–the BF Chris is cleaning up after dinner, nattering on about the hockey game about to end, and all I can think is who cares about hockey when there’s this incredible story of a family’s birth here for me to read?

Not normally a crier, but you got me good today. A post well worth waiting for. Thank you for your beautiful writing, and thank you, Meg and Alex, for letting your Mom share your story and very personal photos. Congratulations on your beautiful, perfect Elliot.

Woman, seriously. Worried about missing a class while your daughter was in labor with your first grandchild?? You, of all people. Not a single one of your people would have any thought besides, “why are you still here? Go!!!”

LizFM, I’m thinking that what that hesitation really was was our Stephanie’s wanting to not leave any ill feelings behind her whatsoever for anyone on the only day her first grandchild would ever be making his arrival. For the joy to be the only thing, for everyone. And when others stepped forward for her as she did for Meg… Yes.

What a perfectly lovely story! This is how we love our daughters, and it is so delicious.

Congratulations!

Also, ten years ago, I had a homebirth in Ontario, in the Hamlet of Whitevale, which was unexpectedly unassisted because the very capable midwife wasn’t as fast as my baby. But I concur….the midwives are marvelous there!

I read this as both a mother of daughters, a grandmother and a registered midwife with tears streaming down my face. A normal birth is an event so beautiful and so full of hope for the future.
Congratulations to you all. X

Nine years ago I had my daughter. My mother came to stay for two weeks. She said to me,”I am here to take care of My Baby so that you will be able to take care of Your Baby.” Thank you for sharing the experience of generations of mother’s love with all of us. I weep with joy for you and your family. Blessed blessed blessed be.

Nine years ago I had my daughter. My mother came to stay for two weeks. She said to me,”I am here to take care of My Baby so that you will be able to take care of Your Baby.” Thank you for sharing the experience of generations of mother’s love with all of us. I wept with joy for you. Mother’s Day is a perfect month early this year!

Nodded along with this – my daughter became a mother so me a grandmother last October and I was so afraid and then proud of my girl but like you so happy they were both fine and well – precious times x

Sniff sniff congratulations on raising a beautiful woman and having a precious new grandson sniff sniff. The post was perfect in everyway. So glad you went for it and just wrote it. Sniff sniff I dont even have kids and I am crying for what tou went through.

Im.sitting here crying with so many emotions while my husband waits for me to come to bed and that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read.
He had reminded me the post would still be there in the morning – I pointed out that in the morning I’d be busy with my own babies (well… children. But the bunny will have been!).
I’m so pleased I gave these minutes to yours.

Oh, lamb. I’d about decided you’d missed it and were being brave. We’ve watched Meg grow up (not sure whether the Wool Pig incident or the Has It Snowed Enough was my first glimpse) but your joy, and her joy — and Joe’s! And Ken’s! — are ours. A soft, warm blanket of blessings around all of you.

What a beautiful birth story! I can only begin to imagine the emotion of the moment, but I hope I get to experience it myself one day (my daughter is only 7). Congratulations to all of you, and well done, Meg!

Beautiful, profound, searingly honest. Thank you for showing that even when we don’t react and feel in the ways we expect, it is driven by love, heartache and raw truth. What a glorious gift for you all.

You did it.
You connected with me, gave me shivers then tears!
I totally understand all of your emotion, when our children are strong, brave, yet connected it melts us.
Well done all and massive congratulations.

I completely understand all of your emotions. I am terrified of my daughter having a baby, yet also thrilled. (Not yet, thank heavens). I already have several grand babies (from sons & it’s different), and let me tell you, it makes having kids worth it. Your heart will have a new level of love and you won’t believe how much joy and pain they will bring you. Congratulations to you. I look forward to seeing you again at DFW.

Well, you DID miss the cheering and applause when the Friday Night Event was told you’d gone home, as everybody at DFW Fiber Fest (not run by a guild, but by a bunch of volunteers who got tired of there not being an event in the area and so created one) knew that you were headed where you needed to be. Blessings on and mazel tov to everybody in the family – Meg is amazing and Elliot is a wonder and you can always teach some other time, but this is where you needed to be. May Elliot be as wondrous as your family deserves.

That’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read. I have young kids, 3 and just turned 1, and it’s overwhelming having my heart outside my body, but that post encapsulated the feeling perfectly. Grandmothering is, I think from observing it rather than experiencing it, exactly that- big mothering.

Thank you for sharing a very personal moment with us, the Blog. There is something extremely personal and moving in the first picture of Meg and Alex….it really made me pause. Thank you to Meg & Alex & Elliot for letting you share their special time with us. May their lives be filled with grace, love, and joy.

Congratulations! Your instinct to just write was spot on. I’m sitting here on the verge of tears over your beautiful description of the birth and your overflowing love for your daughter. Perhaps the loveliest most heartwarming birth story ever. Welcome to the glorious world of being a grandparent. It is one of life’s greatest joys. Thank you.

“She reached down and lifted him up to her out of the water and into to world of air, and wild things, and love” has to be one of the most beautiful sentences I’ve ever read about the transition from the womb to the world.
Congratulations to Meg, Alex and all of you

Thank you, I hadn’t realised that was just how I felt when my elder daughter’s children (and in a different way when my son’s children) were born, until I read your description. You captured my feelings, and I suspect those of many mothers, so perfectly. Thank you and huge congratulations to you all on the birth of that perfect little boy.

Expecting my first grandchild in September. Loved this post with all my heart. Thanks for everything you write. You are lovely. Blessings on you and on the boy and on your lovely, lovely girl. Thanks be to God.

Your beautiful writing brought tears to my eyes. And wonderful memories of my daughter delivering her first son over 17 years ago. At one point I remember her saying, “I don’t think I can do this”. And I told her how strong she was and that she was the only one that could do it.

I’m crying. You wrote it beautifully, perfectly, and Meg will forever have this and really, truly understand. Thank you for sharing, and a million congratulations and hugs for having such a strong heart, both inside and outside of you.

Yes, tears here also for your beautiful words – you should consider writing professionally (wink, wink). Our DIL asked us to be with them at the hospital (all parents) although we weren’t present at the birth, we were just down the hall. When Brahms’s Lullaby played over the intercom, we knew we had a grandchild and got to hold him within his first 30 minutes of life. What an amazing blessing. I completely understand your bond with Meg and hope to experience this with my daughter as well. Thank you for allowing us to feel the edge of this beautiful experience. Love and blessings to you all!

Your writing so touched a deep piece of me. Thank you for sharing what it’s like to have a daughter that you love with your whole heart and are deeply touched by something very profound! Proud moments!

Thank you for finding the words to express your feelings, and the feelings of mothers the world around. I love my grandsons; I love my sons; there are no words to describe how I love my daughter-in-law, for letting her heart wander around the world without her, for being the woman she is, for sharing her life with my son, and for letting me love her.

Thank you for sharing your beautiful Grammy-birth story! I read it while nursing my sweet baby girl who was also born in the water, and cried beautiful, happy tears. Thank you for starting our morning off with so much love!

As I’ve read most of these comments I’m almost crying as much as when I read your post. Your post was so intense and filled with love, a love reserved only for children. I will never watch my son give birth, but the intense feeling for him is there and I never want to let it slip away. Thank you so much for sharing this experience with your readers. And thank you to Meg and Alex for allowing it. Love to your entire family.

Congratulations to you and all, and many blessings upon mother and child. You give so much of yourself to this industry, this time belongs to you and your family. If you hadn’t left, there were about 300 people who would have thrown your a$$ on a plane. The cheers when Elliot was announced were awesome.. and hugs and love all around. THANK YOU FOR BEING AWESOME!!

Beautifully written post. Congratulations to all! Making me think about a decision I need to make re the pending birth in September of my son’s first-born. His mother-in-law is in heaven and when I asked my grandchild’s Mum if I should come when the baby is born – yes, she cried without a millisecond’s hesitation. Mexico is a long way from Canada. I will go. Different scenario from yours of course. I saw so much love shining from my son’s eyes when he told me about the pregnancy. How could I stay away?

That has to be one of your best-written posts since I’ve started reading The Blog. I could feel the emotion, pride, and all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings coming right off the screen. I send my most sincere congratulations to you and your family, especially to Meg, Alex, and little Elliot (I just have to keep remembering: Two Ls, One T; Two Ls, One T).

I have no children myself, but I must add that I am of the opinion that any woman who has given birth should automatically be considered a rock star.

making the decision to have a child – it’s momentous.
it is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.

and you reach out to hold onto your child and she is slipping away, going off into some life that is not your life, and you are afraid to see her go because you know…..you know how far it is possible to let things slip away.

As a childless orphan I’m so happy for you and heartbrokenly jealous of what I will never have. Thank you for writing about your experience so I can at least imagine what it would be like. You are so lucky!

I’m so sorry you have so much hurt and loss in your life. Rachel can you afford to have some fur babies? Like a dog or cat? I will be your family. I have 2 children, so now you have siblings. Sending you hugs (u).
Steph you indeed have raised an amazing daughter! Great job everyone!

You made a girl, and now you have birthed a woman – with all that goes with it. Fear and love and heart outside her body, strong and solid and brilliant and amazing, able to create wee Ellis in love and grace. Blessings, light and love to all the family.

Thank you for this gorgeous post, and to your family for granting us the privilege of sharing a tiny bit in this moment.

I wanted to write a comment on the last post to congratulate you all, but it was 5 days after the birth of my baby and I didn’t have the words. (Not entirely sure I do now!) And I was hoping dearly that the story you had to tell was exactly this one.

Your lovely writing has helped me understand what my mother has been feeling this last little while, and some of what I am feeling now, 12 days into my motherhood. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, this mothering business — pregnancy and birth were easy by comparison! I keep thinking about something you wrote a few years ago, about how mothers need support and community, and I’ve been taking that to heart and trying to gather my people around me. I don’t think I ever *really* understood what you meant before. Thank you for that, too.

I am keeping Meg in my thoughts, because even though she and I don’t really know each other (the internet is such an odd thing!), we mothers have to stick together, I think.

Absolutely beautiful.
You so eloquently explained why my heart breaks a little each time my daughter changes, leaves the house, goes to a middle school dance…
Your love for your daughter shines through.
Thank you for sharing.

Thank you for sharing such a beautifully written story of what you might have chosen to keep private. I am fortunate to have two Grandsons and soon a Grandaughter will be born. Everything you have heard about being a Grandparent is true and so much more. Enjoy every minute.

So grateful to you for sharing such a personal time with your family on the blog. I have grown sons, but not sure I’ll ever be a grandmother. I appreciate you acknowledging the fears and worry side of parenting and grandparenting….not something that gets said often. Being a parent has many joys but also fraught with uncertainty and struggle….just like everything in life! So lovely to read your joyful story – thanks very very much! =^..^=

Dearest Stephanie, thank you so much for both letting us all share such an intimate moment in your life and for putting into words what so many of us have felt but couldn’t express. I think that is the most beautiful post you have ever written. I burst into tears at the quotation and haven’t stopped yet, an hour later. My children are indeed my heart outside my body, the best choice I ever made in my life. And I was present when my granddaughter was born… and just like you, I had thought I would turn to my that tiny new life… but when the moment came, it was all about MY baby, my dearest Sarah, my firstborn, my star. She and three-year-old Olivia are going to be here in an hour and I am going to sit her down to read your blog and say, “This is what I feel but don’t have the ability to put into words.”
Much love for you and all your family. How incredibly blessed Meg is to have you for a mother.

This is so utterly beautifully written that I cried reading it, & re-reading it. I have given birth at home just as your Meg did twice (so far), & it is indeed a fierce, wonderful, powerful way to begin motherhood. And your presence & words for her express everything I have ever wished for & always missed in those moments from my own mother, long sick.with depression. Glad that you made it back in time for your lovely Meg. May you all be well.

I’ve had three children of my own now, but I recently had the privilege of being there while my sister gave birth to her first. It was SO much different. So amazing to be on the other side of it. I was so proud of her in the end. (we’ll ignore the fact that I nearly passed out because I was unintentionally holding my breath with her during pushes!)

I have been waiting to read this post since you announced Meg’s pregnancy. A few years ago, I sat down and read every post you have written, starting at the beginning. I am grateful for the profound impact your writing has had on my life. It’s not about the knitting, but I am grateful that I now have the courage to knit when and where I need to. It’s been reading about your journey through parenthood. You have helped me realize that I’m not parenting children- I’m creating adults. Your honesty and discretion about what you share with us (the Blog) has shown me the line between admitting the difficulty of reality with your fierce protection of your adults in training. One of my children has unique challenges that will keep me on my toes for the rest of my life, but I’m fighting the battles that need to be fought and reminding myself the rest of the time that she is going to be an amazingly strong and confident woman. Without your perspective, I wouldn’t have a voice telling me that this too will pass. Thank you for that.

This post was so beautiful that when I checked for it in my blog feed, I went outside where I could be alone and read it, knowing I would cry by the end. Your fierce love and pride in Meg is well deserved. Brava, Meg and Alex. Welcome to the world, Elliot Tupper. It’s an awesome place.

Beautifully written, and beautifully captured. Thank you for sharing your crazy, loving, wonderful feelings with us. And…yes, Meg is very beautiful. Just like her mama. Happy life Elliott! Congratulations to Matt and Meg.

So beautifully written Stephanie! I read this to my Mother with tears running down my cheeks. Partly because this was so well written and partly because this was something I could not give my Mother. I was never able to have children. I think we were both thinking it, no one needed to say anything. Her heart still breaks with me walking around… Thank you for putting us there in the same room with you simply with your words!

As one of the knitters who’d signed up for your Sunday morning class, I can say that you absolutely did the right thing. There’ll be lots of other classes, but only one moment when your Meg becomes a mom. Your narrative was beautiful, as are your daughter and new grandson.

I have tears of joy streaming down my face as until this moment I never realized how much I missed my mother, at the birth of my two children, until I read your post. She died when I was in high school but my feelings are always raw. I am beyond happy that you were there for Megan. Peace to you all.

Quite simply the most heartfelt, exquisite, post I’ve ever read! You’ve put into words, feelings I have had regarding my experiences with my daughter when she gave birth to my own two grandchildren. I’m going to share this post with her and tell her again how proud and blessed I am to be her mother. I will tell her what an amazing young woman she is. Then I’m going to go hug and spoil my grandbabies! Thanks Steph, for sharing this amazing time in your life. Congratulations and Love to you and your growing family. <3

Congratulations to the whole family! Stephanie, I was waiting eagerly for this post, and it was everything I could have hoped for. And your love for your daughter bursting forth at the end made me tear up, just like all the other readers. You always see and say just a little more than anyone else has been able to express. Thank you! Thank you from all the mothers and daughters of the world.

I’ve been on pins and needles, hoping against hope that you were somehow able to get back in time for the birth, and you did, good for you. Congratulations to all your family on this new arrival!
Your words about Meg are just beautiful. And remind me again, why is it that women don’t rule the world?

How lovely! I’m so glad you were able to get there in time. As for those of us attending DFW Fiber Fest, we say “family comes first” and the announcement of why you needed to leave was greeted with thunderous applause. You absolutely made the right choice!

My mother passed away a year before I had my daughter, and when I read posts like yours, it helps me to feel her again, and I can’t thank you enough for that.

As a doula and birth worker myself, the idea that in 20 years I may be watching my own daughter rise to all of the strength she has (which, at 3 1/2, I can very clearly see already) and bring her own babe into the world… it is everything.

So much love to all of you, all of you wonderful people, and I am forever appreciative that you have let us into your lives.

Beautiful post. I am crying and remembering my own home deliveries, 30+ years ago in San Diego, where the system does not support home deliveries. Every blessing and love to you Meg, and the rest of the family. Such a beautiful little family! Grandparenting is the best ever!
Julie in San Diego

This was such a lovely post. Thank you for having the courage and honesty to write it. Although we all do love the babies, remembering the mothers is so important. I am so happy for your family and wish you all the best. Reading your posts is truly inspirational!

Beautifully written, from the heart. Brings tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing this with us. Of course, Meg is your girl and always will be the apple of your eye. Your grandson is a beautiful miracle, but you are a mother before you are a grandmother, so what you say makes perfect sense to me. Blessings to you all.

I woke this morning in my little house in Australia, read this post, cried my eyes out and wanted to call my mum who is the other side of the world (going to have to wait a few hours though its the middle of the night back home!)

Much love to you and your amazing girl, love to your new addition as well as his dad and grandad.

Oh woman, how you know how to bring the tears. I shared this with the husband, and we cried. we remembered our daughters being born, and we heartily congratulate you on the strength and beauty of your lovely girl, and her beautiful son.

This post. So very beautiful and glorious with love. Of course I blubbed (like at least half the Blog). I am not a crier and I seldom comment but this post!
Congratulations and well done to Megan and Alex, and welcome to little Elliot Tupper!

Meg will treasure this. And someday, she will read to her daughter.
Absolutely beautiful and so straight from the heart. She’s a lucky young woman and what bliss .
I write this with my (32 year old) son sitting here with me tolerating his mother’s hockey addiction. It gets better every day.

Thank you for sharing your and your family’s experience. As everyone has said, beautiful. It helped me to understand what my mother felt when I had my babies and her desire to drop everything to fly across the country to be there. Congratulations Grammy, you did good and your Meg was amazing!

I send my love and very best wishes to you all. Congratulations on Elliott’s arrival. You truly have a wonderful daughter. Isn’t it amazing when the child that you carried in your body and gave birth to, does the same thing? You told the story beautifully Steph, it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.

Thank-you. I am grateful as the mother of a daughter, and as a knitter, for your post.
Don’t we always only have eyes for our daughters? Enjoy that prescious Elliot. Sing with him as much as you knit for him.

The beauty of childbirth. I walked your path right along with you. Thank you for this. I too cried when my daughter made the decision three times. Each time I relived those feelings that you so eloquently describe.

I am a grandmother of 7 now. The oldest two are 10 and 9, the youngest two are 4. The three in the middle, they’re 6. Yup, all three children were pregnant at the same time, giving birth one month apart. Now, that was a wild ride as was the thanksgiving six years ago when one after the other, announced they we’re pregnant Whew, that was a wild, joyous, scary, ride.

What a wonderful and generous hearted mother you are – I’ve cried through your beautiful blog and it’s the first time I’ve actually wished I had a child. I’ve lots of friends who are grandparents for the first time and the new arrival is the only topic of conversation, and I’ve often wondered about the mother – how she is. Congratulations to you all and may all the blessings of the world be with you.

Beautifully shared! I so understand….I have many friends totally into their grandchildren. And I deeply love all mine (there are 15), but I am absolutely still consumed with what I feel for my children. Eclipses the grandchildren thing! So thrilled for you all!

What a beautiful tribute to Meg. I felt exactly the same way when my granddaughter arrived. I was so excited to welcome her into our family, but watching my daughter become a strong, wonderful mother has been so much more amazing. I thought I knew her, but it turns out she’s so much more.

I tried so hard to have my three at home, but the American healthcare industry just wouldn’t let it be unless we could foot the entire bill ourselves. Insurance refused to cover any of it, and I was devastated each time. I did, however, have completely natural births in a hospital with lovely doctors each time, but it was never the birth I wanted. Congratulations to everyone involved! She and he are beautiful shining stars!

How wonderful to have and love a beautiful daughter. I have sons. I love them to bits, but when the time comes I will always be the mother-in-law. There is truly something special that women pass from one generation of women to the next. Thank you for sharing.

Tears of happiness this Easter morning for you and your family. I just sent this link to my youngest daughter who treated me to this wonder 19 months ago but never could I express my feelings as you did.

Everything was perfect, miraculous and I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for sharing your life with us. My kids have been hearing about you since they were children and my oldest went to one of your engagements in Seattle (the idea being completely her own without even a tiny hint ) and had a great time plus had a book signed for me. You can see how much a part of our family you are. The very best wishes to you all and thank you again for this lovely tribute to us Mothers who are unable to express the wonders of becoming a Grandmother.

Ooh goodness, so many tears while reading this. I would have never understood it if I didn’t have my son now – but, oh my. Yes, yes, yes. All those emotions wrapped up in another person. All that pride and fear and love all at the same moment.

And, in other news, metiorologists are trying to explain the global flash flood phenomenon taking place. It seems the composition of the water is idententical to human tears… LOL
Meg is WOMAN, phenomenal WOMAN!

I as well am teary eyed and full-hearted after reading this story. Reminds me of when my mom learned that I was going to have to have an emergency c-section and she had to go sit in the car because she was so upset! Love this, love your daughter, and your new grandson. xoxoxo

Well, you did it — you made me cry at a blog post for the first time ever!!! What an amazing family you all are — each and every one of you — and what a privilege that you shared this with us — thank you so much.

This post brought tears, just like the previous posters. What beautiful descriptions of love. I am also a first time grannie and it has been such a joy to watch my daughter become a mother. Congratulations to you all!

I just finished reading your post (I was very excited to see that you’d posted her birth story, I do love a good birth story) and I’m crying. I laughed and cried though it as I sat here with my own wee baby (my 4th was born in the water at a free standing birth center 3 weeks ago. I share much of your passion for not flipping out and heading to the hospital just because you’re having a baby) but the end of your post… it shredded my heart into a million pieces. I am many years from becoming a grandmother (my eldest is 5) but the feelings you put into your post – honestly I can’t describe how it made me feel. So I’ll just send hugs from one mama to another because some feelings can’t be described.

Beautiful. I don’t have words to convey how touching this post was. I cried and tried to imagine what you were feeling for your lovely daughter, and I can’t. Maybe because I don’t have a daughter, maybe because I don’t have a grandchild (and don’t expect I ever will since my sons don’t seem to have kids on their list of things to do in life), but even though I can’t imagine it, I am so very happy for you and your family. Thank you for sharing this beautiful life story.

My face is streaming with tears. You write beautifully, you love beautifully, and I thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings, so perfectly expressed. Congratulations to you all, and wishes for all kinds of good things for your new grandson. <3

Magnificently expressed. I have my heart walking around outside of me in two people. I however will never be able to experience the same thing you have as I have two sons. They are wonderful and terrifying and heartbreaking and all those things you said about your daughter but they will never push another life from their bodies and that actually makes me a little sad that I couldn’t give birth to a daughter but you shared this so beautifully that I feel some of what you must have felt.
Thank you.

I did not expect to cry. I am, at best, a sporadic member of The Blog. I have a child but I didn’t birth her. Happy tears and an aching throat have prevented me from writing this for a good long time after I read this post. Thank you, Steph, for sharing this with us.

You did exactly what you needed to do: just write and it will come out just as it should.

And now I’m sitting here crying because I’m reminded that my mother was not able to be with me when either of my boys were born (FTR, she passed away in 2001, years before I met Husband and almost a decade before her first grandson was born; she’s not just a rude person – she definitely would have been here if she could have been).

I’ve been following along with what just have been a similar due date for my second, and was happy to have my planned home birth with midwives over in East York and I’m enchanted that you got there in time.

I had the same issue with the intensity of labours… the midwives knew this time around to expect it but last time we got to the hospital at 10cm… it was also my husband who snapped and made the call to go :). Not to diminish a woman’s knowledge of her own body, but I found that in labour someone who knows you well might have a clearer perspective at that moment… I hope all the happiness possible for them, and the joy that sustains you through the tough stuff (like age three).

Beautiful post. It brought tears as well as memories of my own homebirth. It was to be just me, my husband and our midwives, but then during transition I simply needed my mother and needed her now. After she arrived I had the strength to deliver my son. The connection with our mothers is so strong on both sides. I’m so happy you could be there for your daughter. She, and I know you, will cherish that memory always.

Pure beauty and joy! I’m a relatively new mother (my daughter is 18 months) and completely understand the heartbreak and happiness that is being a mother – definitely having your heart outside in the world, so vulnerable, is incredibly scary and exciting. Congratulations to you all on such a fabulous adventure!

I’m sitting here in tears like the rest of the blog. Strong, gentle women don’t just “happen.” They are nurtured along by strong, gentle mothers. Congratulations, grandma, on the perfect woman you raised.

You managed to articulate what I felt – but did not have the words for – when I saw my daughter soon after the birth of her son 3 months ago. I am besotted with him and his big sister and cannot tell you have much joy they bring me. But I have never seen my girl look as beautiful as she did cradling her new born son with her 3 year old daughter cuddled in too. I wish all your family every happiness.

Sitting here crying as I read your post. Thank you for sharing. I’ve no children, but I have a stepdaughter I dearly love. There is current discussion of children. I hope I can be a grandmother with the grace you are showing!

Oh sweet congratulations to you all! Really you should think about writing a book about motherhood, because every post you write on the subject is so spot on. Thanks for the beautiful story of Elliott’s birth.

Well it is not nice to make a person sob uncontrollably at their desk at work. Monday morning and I now look like I’ve been at the midweek stay up late and drink yourself silly bookclub meeting plus my heart is beating through my blouse and my sweater. And I couldn’t be happier. For you, for her, for him, for the bigger him, for the older him, and for all of your family. My Congratulations – but words don’t work. Consider a grateful hug for reminding me what this (life) is all about.

This made me cry: for my mom, who was at the birth of my son, my first baby; for my daughter, who will someday be a mother, and for me, who will someday be the grandmother who sees the shining glory in my daughter-mother.

This so perfectly describes the joy and heartbreak that is being a Mom. Wiping tears and snot…yes I cried that much…off my face. Thank you! Bless you and your beautiful and strong daughter, and her new family.

Steph: There are no words. Pure joy for the strength and the love within your family – I trust Alex is learning to appreciate the power of the circle he’s joined – colored with a tinge of sadness for such that I’ll never know. Not all are blessed to be born into that life; rather, we build our own.
Thank you to the parents for allowing us a glimpse of their most intimate moments ever. Meg – for every spat, every impatience, every hurt feeling between you and your Mum these past 20+ years – read what she’s written just for you. Now you know the love of it all. Blessings on you and yours –

Beautiful! You made me cry tears of happiness for all of you. So very glad you could be there. Knitters are kind, loving souls and wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere but with your daughter and new grandson. Congratulations to all!

As I read this, I was grinning like a mad thing from ear to ear and ready to burst out crying with joy. I’ve never experienced the birth of children personally, but the magic of it never ceases to amaze me. Congratulations, Grammy and Mummy Meg. This is a beautiful piece of writing.

I too burst into tears as soon as I hung up the phone when my daughter told me she was pregnant. I think a lot of you wrote finally explained why, that and the fact that she was not married and 5,000 miles away, but it all worked out! Congratulations to you and Meg. She is beautiful and your grandson is absolutely perfect!

I was turning 40 for my first and only pregnancy. I made the radical choice to use a local mid-wife. I was so happy with that experience and I knew this was my one shot at this. I almost missed the experience because of my age and my amazing mother was with me all the way. Minus the delivery – her choice. My first thought as a new mother was panic. If it were not for my unique daughter that I gave birth to I would be knitting. But, most likely would not be reading this blog. It can be tough along the way but what I almost missed . . .

Tears, tears, tears. Stephanie, that may be the most beautiful mama story I have ever read. I have just put my own sweet girl down to bed. She is only 9, but it is my fondest wish that one day I (also a former doula) may get to experience what you have just done. If there is anything sweeter in life than that I cannot imagine what it might be.

Dear Steph and family, I have read and re-read this post again and again. To savour the wonder and the glory and the joy of the moment. And each and every time, by the last line my heart is swelled with waves of love and unshed tears. A thousand times, welcome Elliot and bravo Meg. xo

Thank you, Steph, for writing this out. I’m expecting my first in November and I had wanted my Mom to be there. I hadn’t asked her as she lives ten hours away and I couldn’t think logistically how it would work. After reading your post, I asked her. I understand now why she wants to be here and help me transition from one life stage to the other.

OK, maybe my eyes are leaking a little bit. But hey, it’s Dallas, TX so it could just be allergies. Anyhoo, I’m right there with you. I love my grand babies to the moon and back. But I am so damn proud of their mother, I could sometimes just explode.

P.S. I was at the DFW FF and the only things I heard were well ishes for you and the babe, safe travels, safe delivery, and just so much love. We adore you here and I can’t imagine that ever changing!!

I certainly cannot speak for Meg here… yet wanted to share the flip side of what you’ve so lovingly articulated. I did not realize how much my mother loved me until I had my son. How is it possible someone cares about me as much, as endlessly and as relentlessly as I love him? It’s humbling and inspiring.
And, semi-related, I share your post on raising independent adults (women!) with almost every mom friend of mine at some point. Raising amazing people like Meg takes amazing people like you. Congratulations to everyone!

I saved this for three days because I knew I wasn’t ready to read it. I just read it, and I still wasn’t ready. My kids are still small, but thinking about them being adults someday always slays me, and now I am sitting in a pool of my own tears at work. Many congratulations to your entire family – you made the right choice for sure.

Stephanie, I weep with joy and love and understanding every time I read this. I blub when I try to recount it to people over the dinner table. It’s one of the best things you’ve ever written and I thank you for writing it for us, the Blog.
I’m not/will never be a mother myself, but to think that my own mom might have at some point felt this way about me is so healing. Thank you. Blessings on Meg and Alex and Elliot and everybody.

This is exactly the way I felt when my daughter had her baby! How is it that our children are so brave? And that thought of your heart walking outside of your body? I think it stays that way forever. Thanks for this post!

Amid all of the love and tears and laughter–well-covered by my fellow commenters–I HAVE to say: when I first saw that pic of your seat mate on the way home, I thought he was fleeing up the jetway with all possible dispatch, having sat right next to your [intensity] all of the way home! Glad to read he was so much more supportive than that!! =)

Thank you for this sweet and wonderful gift. I’d call it a post, but that really doesn’t do it justice. I’m so happy to hear that you made it to the birth, so happy that it went well, and so happy that Meg had your big heart holding her up. I’m 9 months ahead of her in mommy-ing, and reading your love for her even lifted me as a new momma. Thank you.

I totally, totally, TOTALLY get this! I have two daughters, each of them a mother to boys, and I remember so well watching my daughter with my first grandson and completely and utterly falling in love with her all over again. You have some proud moments ahead of you, Stephanie, as you watch Meg BE a mother. The birth is only the beginning. And if you’re like me, you will witness her superb mothering and you will think “Where on earth did she learn that?”

Congratulations to you and your family – what a beautiful baby. I loved your post and impressed that the young girl I first saw in your blog years ago has grown into a strong and loving woman. This is one lucky baby to have all of you in his life.

As I read this it reminded me of my own feelings when my wonderful, beautiful, strong daughter told me her own news about being pregnant. Like you, although I managed to hold off until I got home, I also cried and like you it was the same reasons, only I didn’t understand that until I read this blog. My daughter started life as a premature baby and from the moment of her early birth – to this day and counting – I have worried about her. To see her go through this with her own beautiful, cheeky, inquisitive bundle of joy brings back all my own feelings. Thank you, though, for reminding me of how strong we mothers all are in seeing our children grow into parents themselves and let’s all pray that the happy, rewarding, fulfilling memories are there for all future generations. Congratulations to grandmothers everywhere

Oh, Stephanie, you write so beautifully. Your love for your daughter shines through in a way that brings tears to my eyes. You are the embodiment of a mother’s tender love. For those of us who didn’t experience being the recipient of such amazing love, I thank you for showing me that it really does exist somewhere. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Dear Stephanie, That was a beautiful and heartfelt post and thank you for sharing that moment with us. My youngest daughter, also a Megan, is having our first grandchild later this summer. She has also chosen a home birth with midwife, so it was lovely to read about your experience. The woman you quoted, Elizabeth Stone, was my daughters professor and advisor at Fordham when she wrote for the university newspaper. I’ve forwarded your post to my daughter and son-in-law as I know they will enjoy it.

Thank you for this beautifully written experience. I couldn’t stop reading for even a moment in fact I think I held my breath most of the time. In five weeks my beautiful daughter will go through this experience to deliver my first and maybe only granddaughter. I’m 70, she’s 38. What a wonderful gift…. this is the perspective I needed to prepare for what’s ahead. Much much gratitude.

First, I am SOOO happy for you! And so proud of Meg, if you are allowed to be proud of a person you have never met, but admired from afar for years. So happy you got there and didn’t miss it. And that everyone is happy and healthy.

I bawled when I read this. I started it twice around others and had to close it and wait until I was alone. Six years ago I met you at a book signing and told you I was pregnant with twins….(you gave me a funny look as I wasn’t showing yet and it was early enough I wasn’t telling many people, but I was pretty excited and it seemed like you wouldn’t spill the beans!) Anyway, five years ago on Sunday, I went into labor and my mother, who had LONGED for a grandchild for years was at the hospital holding my hand. Identical twins on the same placenta are tricky..and mine had been transverse for weeks with no hope of easily heading downward, so I had a c-section. I got sick and was miserable and hadn’t even really seen my girls after they were born, although I knew they were fine. I remember so clearly sitting in the recovery room by myself thinking how it had finally happened and now here I was all alone in a room. No babies, none of the people who had hovered around me for days, expectantly. I wanted to see my babies and I wanted to talk to someone about them. And I remember my Mom came bursting into the room. She rushed over to me and I was so happy to see her. I asked if the girls were ok and she said they were beautiful and then started fussing over me. She said “They are darling and your husband is in the nursery with them and everyone is standing around the window. But I needed to come see how MY BABY is.” I remember being flabbergasted that she wasn’t mooning over the grandchildren she had been literally begging me to give her for the last TEN YEARS. But no, she wanted to see me and know that I was ok. And she stayed with me. They eventually brought one of my girls in and she and I oohed and aahed over her together.

Now, with almost 5 year olds, I am starting to understand how she must have felt. At the time, my heart hadn’t had time to realize it was outside my body yet. I can only imagine how harrowing it was for her to have me taken out of her sight and have to sit and wait to hear. Her knowing how many things could go wrong and praying they weren’t happening to me. I now know how hard it is to be powerless to change something and just have to sit and wait for it to happen to your child.

That day is such a whirlwind that I had kind of forgotten that part. That my mom so needed to come see me. Thank you for reminding me of that precious memory.

I look forward to hearing many tales of Elliot’s exploits. And to see through your eyes Meg getting her mothering legs under her. And of course, all the wonderful knitting it will bring! Congratulations to you and your family.

I just had mine on Tuesday; in the same bathtub in the same room in the same birth center that I had my first a little over a year ago. Thank you and Meg and Alex so much for sharing this moment with all of us. I’m absolutely in tears here. My heart is so full for you and your family.

Thank you, Steph, for sharing your love of family with us. I’m sure the knitters who missed you at DFW are proud to know that their sacrifice helped make it possible for you to be a part of this most special event. This is such a beautiful telling….. it brought tears to my eyes. Congratulations to one fine mother and grandmother!

I have been reading your books and blog for years, and have never commented, but I wanted to thank you for this beautiful post. You made me finally understand what made my mom burst into tears 18 years ago when my daughter was born, run into the hospital room and go right past the baby in my arms to hug ME, because it had taken longer than she thought it would (she gave birth to all four of her babies in an hour or less!!) and she was worried something had happened to me. After we got that over, she proceeded to be completely wrapped up in her granddaughter as I knew she would be, but I had never understood that moment completely (even though she said at the time “Well, you’re still MY baby.”). I loved the pictures of your family, too. Thanks so much for sharing this with us.

Beautiful. I wasn’t there when my daughter gave birth to her sons, but I feel the same way about her. Watching her parent them is the greatest reward. And, I adore my grandsons, but my love for my daughter is my greatest love. Your post brought me to tears, feeling the depth of that love.

I’m so incredibly late to this news. I blame the wicked work hours I had in the ER for the months of March thru this past weekend. Please accept my congratulations to momma, baby, daddy and grandma for the safe and happy arrival!